


Do What Thou Wilt

by penguingal



Category: Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: Crossdressing, Domination/submission, M/M, Military Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-09
Updated: 2014-06-09
Packaged: 2018-02-03 23:40:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1759837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/penguingal/pseuds/penguingal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Abraham fails to get an invite from Colonel Cook to the dinner at Major Andre's house, Anna devises a way to get them both in with the help of Abigail.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Do What Thou Wilt

**Author's Note:**

> For the Turn Kink Meme: http://turn-kink.livejournal.com/799.html?thread=22559#t22559
> 
> History tells us that Selah Strong was imprisoned on the Jersey and that Anna visited him there. For the purposes of this fic, he's still alive and still in prison.

“How did it go with Cook?” Anna asks when Abe returns to the rooms they are keeping. She’d been pacing anxiously with nothing but the sounds and the smells of the wharf to keep her company. 

Abe shakes his head. “Fine, it went fine. The deal is done. But I had hoped to get close to the man, maybe get him talking. His lips get looser after he’s been drinking, but he’s got an engagement at Major John Andre’s house. I tried to get an invite. The gathering is apparently very exclusive, a dining society. No outsiders.” 

“Major Andre’s house? That’s where Abigail is,” Anna says, hope blooming in her eyes. “A gathering like that is sure to have women. She could get me in.”

“No, Anna,” Abe says immediately. He takes off his coat and drapes it across the bed. “It’s too dangerous. I won’t have you going in there alone.”

Anna steps close to Abe. “This is an opportunity we’re not likely to have again. Any chance we could find out something that Andre knows… we have to take it.” She chews her lip. “Did Cook say if there would be boys? For the party?”

“Anna!” Abe says, scandalized. “That’s--it’s not permitted.”

“And yet it does happen. Frequently if some of the talk around my tavern--what used to be my tavern--is to be believed.”

Abe shakes his head. “Well even if there are going to be boys, it’s not like he’d just casually mention it to me, would he?” 

“Abigail would know. We could get you in with them as well,” Anna says.

“Have you taken leave of your senses?” Abe asks. “Cook knows me. He knows my face. How am I supposed to pass myself off as a boy whore with him in the room?” 

Anna smirks at him. “Oh, Abraham. When I am finished, your own father wouldn’t recognize you.” 

….

It’s no trouble to find Abigail at the market buying the supplies for the gathering. It takes a little more effort to get Abigail to agree to both telling Anna what she knows and helping get them into the party. The boys were to be disguised as women, only revealing which is which once they are safely behind closed doors. 

The process of dressing and grooming Abraham is by far the hardest task to accomplish. Beyond his protests at every turn, just getting him into the appropriate clothing is difficult. Anna is fortunate that Abe is a slender man, and not very tall. Her own clothes suit their purpose well enough. 

“At least I can wear my breeches under this contraption,” Abe grumbles as he stares at Anna’s dress. “Honestly, how do you ladies breathe in this thing?” he asks as Anna diligently tightens the laces on the corset.

“You adapt,” Anna says. “Just like with anything.” 

“I still think this is a terrible idea,” Abe says. He lets out a breath of relief as Anna stops tugging and lets him go. “I am never going to pass for a woman. And worse, I am never going to fool Cook.”

“You let me worry about Cook. I’ll keep him distracted from you,” Anna promises. “Now, arms up.”

Abraham obediently raises his arms and lets Anna put the dress on him. The dress was a gift from her imprisoned husband, whom Anna had travelled with him to visit. Abe thinks Selah would probably not appreciate it being put to this sort of use. 

Privately, Anna thinks that Abe does actually look ridiculous. His curves are in all the wrong places for the dress, his hips far too narrow and the shoulders too broad for the waist to look right. But he only has to look like a woman for a short time. He’s incredibly close shaven, not a hint of stubble or a beard. His face is powdered and rouged in an attempt to hide the tanned skin of a farmer. His lips are painted. She leaves his hair as is, aside from pinning a small bonnet to it. Anna completes the look with a ribbon around his throat with a cameo hanging from the center of it. “What do you think?” she says, positioning him in front of the glass.

“I look--utterly ridiculous. But no one would recognize me, I grant you that,” Abe says. “Do you think it’ll work?”

“I think that there’s only one way to find out,” she replies.

….

Getting into Major Andre’s house is disturbingly easy. Abigail had done her work well and the two guards stood aside for them at once. Anna and Abe stand in the hallway outside of the drawing room with the others. Some of them are painfully obviously boys, but Andre’s soldiers were picked for their loyalty as well as their discretion. 

The drawing room doors open and the assembled move inside. The room is awash in candlelight and the table is piled with more food than Abraham had ever seen in one place at one time. The men seated around the table hoot and holler and pound the table as they enter and Abe’s stomach clenches. He tries to melt as much as possible into the background, keeping his eyes demurely lowered as he spots Cook examining him. 

Anna steps in front of him, just enough to distract Cook, giving him a soft smile and a slight incline of her head. 

“Ah, now… gentlemen," Major Andre says. "With the delivery of our flowers, it’s time to shift into the next phase of our little gathering. As your host, I do endeavor to cater to all of your needs. So, would the boys among you, please identify yourselves?” There’s a moment’s hesitation within the group. “Come, come. You are all safe here.”

Abe and three others step forward. He tries to keep his eyes lowered, but finds himself scanning the faces of the men at the table. Blinking slowly, he realizes that Andre’s eyes are fixed squarely on him. His stomach and his bowels clench, and it feels like his tongue is too big for his mouth. He’s acutely aware of the corset pressing against his ribs, making it difficult to breathe. For a horrifying moment, he worries he’s going to pass out. 

Picking up a glass of wine, Andre circles around the table and moves closer to the group. Philomena was meant to be here tonight, but he required her to return to New Jersey, leaving him currently without a dance partner. Everyone looks positively good enough for him to eat, but one of the men stands out. He had clearly put real thought and effort into his presentation this evening. Fixing his gaze, he prowls toward his intended target.

“Gentlemen: to firm erection, fine insertion, excellent distillation, and no contamination!” Andre toasts. He stops directly in front of Abe, offering him first the glass of wine and second, his hand. “ _Fais ce que tu voudras!_ ” he calls over his shoulder, prompting the other men to move. 

“Do what thou wilt,” Abraham murmurs softly, glancing up into Andre’s eyes. He swallows hard, then accepts the glass of wine. He takes a sip and meets Andre’s gaze, licking his lips to get the full taste. Andre gives him an approving smirk, and only then does Abe slip his hand into the other man’s. 

Andre gallantly presses a kiss to Abe’s knuckles and draws him into the dining room. He glances around quickly, noticing that Anna has kept true to her word and managed to find her way into Cook’s lap. 

“You are amazing,” Andre is saying as he draws Abe deeper into the dining room. He pours himself a new glass of wine and then sits, pulling Abe gently into his lap. “I’ve never seen a disguise so exquisitely rendered.”

“I admit, Major Andre, I had quite a considerable amount of help with it,” Abe says. He’s glad to be at the head of the table where he can see what the others are doing. He looks at Anna, the way she has managed to artfully drape herself across Cook, and imitates her as best as he can. He puts an arm around Andre’s shoulders and leans against him. “But if there was a chance of meeting you, I knew it would be worth the effort.”

“Such flattery,” Andre says, smiling up at him. “I’m pleased. Tell me your name.”

Abe sucks in a breath, hesitating. He and Anna hadn’t discussed a name.

Andre interprets Abe’s hesitation as fear. “Don’t be afraid,” he says, caressing Abe’s arm gently. “I don’t expect it to be your real name.”

“T-Thomas,” Abraham finally answers. “I’m Thomas.”

“Major John Andre,” he replies, again kissing Abe’s hand. “Enchante.”

“The enchantment is all mine, Major,” Abraham says. 

“French and Latin, I am impressed, Thomas,” Andre says. “But I insist that tonight be informal. You must call me by my given name.” He tilts his head at Abe. “Unless the formality is an aphrodisiac?”

Abe smirks, playing his part. “There is a certain appeal to it. Wouldn’t you agree, Major?” 

“Completely,” Andre replies, his smile growing.

….

The eating and drinking continues for some time. Abraham is careful about everything he consumes, while managing to make it appear to Andre that he is slowly getting drunk and satiated on all the delicious foods. Someone at the table suggests dancing and Andre declares it to be an excellent idea. 

Abraham uses the opportunity to check in with Anna as they move around each other. “Are you alright?” he asks her.

“Fine. The Colonel is putty in my hands. You seem to be keeping the Major well entertained,” she notes.

“I hope so, if only so I don’t get hanged tonight,” Abe says. “One of us must be able to get away, look for information.” 

“Are you prepared to do what might need to be done to accomplish that goal?” Anna asks seriously.

“Are you?” Abraham counters.

Anna nods. “To help the cause my husband is currently suffering imprisonment for, yes. Even if it means I am damned.”

Abraham gives her a look, but he can tell she’s serious in her conviction. He wants to give her some words of encouragement or consolation, but the song ends and Andre takes him by the elbow.

“I thought perhaps I could give you a private tour of the house,” he murmurs in Abe’s ear. 

“Your guests--” Abe protests softly.

“My guests are well fed, well drunk, and well entertained,” he replies. “Come. Let me show you around.”

Abe nods and makes sure to catch Anna’s eye as he leaves. He wants her to know where he’s gone and with whom. 

“You’ve already seen the dining room and the drawing room,” Andre says genially. “Through here is the kitchen where Abigail has done her astounding work. This is my private study.” He motions to a closed door and then begins to move past it.

“Oh, I don’t get to see inside?” Abe asks, stopping in front of the study door. “It must reveal a great deal about you for you to keep it hidden so.”

Tilting his head again, Andre backtracks. He steps close to Abe, so he’s looking directly down at him, their breath intermingling. Smirking ever so slightly, Andre opens the door for him, revealing the neat, well-appointed room. “I’m afraid I can’t permit you to go inside.” He leans in to murmur in Abe’s ear. “Far too many secrets to be had.”

Despite himself, Abe shivers. Major Andre is charming, seductive, and attractive, and were the circumstances different--were Abe free by God and society to act on the feelings he sometimes harbors for his own sex--Andre is exactly the kind of man who would draw his attention. He loves his wife and his child deeply, so he carefully pushes these feelings aside and prays to God for forgiveness for them when they occur. But now perhaps duty demands that he give in to them. He might condemn himself to Hell, but this is bigger than him now. 

“Oh, of course. I understand,” Abe finally manages. “How many bedrooms does the house have?” he asks, glancing at the nearby staircase.

“Four in total,” Andre says. He again takes Abe gently by the elbow, heading for the stairs and then up them. “Some of my guests will use the extra rooms tonight. Then, of course, there is my room.” He sweeps his arm forward at the top of the stairs, indicating the room just to the left of the bannister. 

Abraham moves forward, opening the door for them. The room is lush and comfortable, but tidy as befits a military man. There are books laying about, and an easel with some sketches resting against it.

“You’re an artist?” Abe asks, drifting towards the easel. 

“I dabble,” Andre says. He closes the door behind them with an audible thud and a click as he locks it. “It wouldn’t do for us to be disturbed, now would it?”

“No, of course not, Major,” Abe says. 

“There’s a basin there with fresh water. Wash your face,” Andre orders. “If I’m going to lie with a man, then he’s going to look like a man.” 

Obediently, Abe washes his face after removing the ribbon from around his neck and the bonnet from his hair. When he turns, Andre has shed his coat and untied his cravat, leaving the neck of his shirt open to expose his pale throat. 

“Much better,” Andre declares.

“Major. John. I--” Abe stutters, unable to take his eyes from the strong column of Andre’s throat.

“Have I tongue-tied you?” Andre teases. “With just the sight of my naked throat? Imagine how mute you’ll be when we are both undressed.” He rubs his hands together and looks at Abe’s outfit. “You said you had help putting this on. I imagine you have not yet attempted to take it off on your own?” 

“That’s correct,” Abe says, looking down at himself. “I don’t think I have the foggiest notion of where to even begin.”

“Fortunately for us, I am something of an expert at removing a lady's dress,” Andre says. He steps closer and begins working on the laces. He says nothing as he works, letting just his presence, the feel of his body behind his quarry’s, seep into him. 

The bodice opened, Andre helps Abe pull it off and then puts it carefully aside. He returns, now addressing his considerable concentration to loosening the stays on the corset. Piece by piece the artifice falls away, revealing a slender, athletic man underneath. 

“What you must look like in your every day clothes,” Andre muses, finally turning Abe so they’re facing each other. “What is your profession, Thomas?” 

“I’m a lawyer,” Abe answers easily. “Though I also help out on my brother’s farm, when my duties permit me.” 

“And yet here you are, gleefully flouting the law with me in my home,” Andre teases. “How wonderful. You wouldn’t find many professionals who would do this kind of work on the side.”

Abe ducks his head and feigns a blush. “A man with my proclivities doesn’t have much chance to indulge them. I’m afraid I take what I can get. A friend helped me; knowing the caliber of your guests, she thought I might be pleasing.” He steps closer and licks his lips. “I can’t help but notice, Major, that you’re still in your shirtsleeves while I--I am not.”

“You are. Very pleasing. And very observant, Thomas. Perhaps you could assist me?” Andre says. 

Abe swallows and reaches out. He carefully unbuttons Andre’s vest and places it with the Major’s coat. Then he tugs at Andre’s shirt, pulling it from the waist of his breeches first and then pulling up to reveal his naked torso. 

Andre lifts his arms and allows the shirt to be pulled off. He takes it from Abe's hands and places it with his other clothes. When he turns, he catches Abe staring avidly at his skin.

"Tongue-tied again?" he teases. Andre steps close to Abe. He slides his hand along Abe’s jaw, tilting his face up so he can look in his eyes. “Do you enjoy what you see?” 

Abe dares to reach out and put a hand on Andre’s chest, sliding it lightly against the smooth, firm skin. “Very much,” he murmurs. He takes one more step, their chests touching, and he keeps his head tilted up to look into Andre’s face. 

“When was the last time you were with a man?” Andre asks, running a thumb over Abe’s lips. 

“It’s been--a long time. Not since I studied law at University,” he says. 

Leaning in, Andre kisses him then, slowly, solicitously. He keeps his hand pressed against Abe’s jaw, holding him in place as he extends the kiss. Its firm and unhurried, leaving no room for Abe to wonder who is in charge tonight. 

“John,” Abe murmurs as the kiss finally breaks. The room spins a little and he sways toward the other man. He clears his throat. “Forgive me. It really has been a long time.” 

Andre smirks at him. “I cannot promise to be gentle with you. But I can promise that I will endeavor not to hurt you.” He runs a hand down Abe’s shoulder and over his arm. “I want this to be a pleasurable experience for both of us.”

Nodding, Abe reaches out again for Andre, this time aiming for his breeches. “May I?” he asks before daring to try to open the buttons.

“Wait,” Andre says, stepping back. “Boots first.” He sits on the edge of the bed and looks at Abe expectantly. 

It takes Abe a moment to realize Andre is expecting him to kneel at his feet and remove the footwear for him. In that moment, he realizes something else: Andre is testing him, pushing his limits to see how far he’ll bend before he breaks. Taking a breath, Abe moves to the side of the bed and kneels, pulling first one foot into his lap and then the other to remove the Major’s boots. 

“Excellent,” Andre says. He helps Abe to his feet. “Now you may undo my breeches.” 

Abe reaches for him again, noting the outline of Andre's cock pressed up against the material. "Tell me, Major," he murmurs. "Was it the sight of my naked skin or me kneeling at your feet that garnered such a reaction?" 

He slides his hand into the Major's trousers and wraps his hand around his cock, stroking him. The angle is a little awkward, but it's manageable.

Andre groans softly, his eyes drifting briefly closed. "All of it, together," he replies finally. Gently, he takes Abe's wrist and removes his hand. "In good time," he promises.

Abraham waits as Andre strips his breeches and stockings off and places them aside, watching the Major’s powerful body on full display. His breath catches in his throat to see him in such an intimate fashion and still utterly in command of himself. 

“Now, Thomas,” Andre says, maneuvering him so he’s leaning against the bed. “Let us see the rest of your assets, shall we?” He reaches for Abe, undoing the fastenings on his breeches and stripping him efficiently.

Blushing deeply, Abe lowers his gaze as he stands naked in front of Andre. Mary always preferred to have relations in the pitch darkness where they cannot see each other’s bodies. He’s rarely been so completely exposed, naked as the day he was born, where he can be seen by another. 

Andre lets out an appreciative breath. “Glorious,” he comments, running a hand down Abe’s chest. He wraps a large hand around Abe’s waist and pulls him forward, their mouths meeting. This kiss is the antithesis of the first, now rough and demanding. Andre licks at Abe’s mouth, getting him to open so he can slip his tongue inside. He presses him back so Abe has no choice but to scramble up onto the bed. His hands roam all over Abe’s body, pressing and squeezing and caressing. 

Abe has the insane thought that he’s being measured up somehow, assessed as one might assess livestock for selling. Perhaps he is. Never one to be passive, he lets his own hands follow suit, learning the Major’s body by touch as the two of them kiss over and over. His hands find their way into Andre’s hair, toying with the braid near his ear. 

“Oh, we are going to have such fun together,” Andre growls. He runs his hand once more down Abe’s chest to circle around his cock, stroking him firmly. 

“John!” Abe gasps, clutching the Major’s shoulders. The pleasure of another man’s hand on him is far more intense than he remembers from his University days. Perhaps also the difference is that they were but fumbling boys and Major John Andre is completely a man. 

Andre chuckles and continues stroking the man beneath him, watching his every reaction. He enjoys watching Abe squirm and pant, the efforts he makes to keep his eyes open that are ultimately futile. 

Rational, coherent thought is quickly being driven away, but Abe retains presence of mind enough to reach for Andre. He wraps his hand around the other man’s cock and strokes him in time to the hand on his own body. 

“Yes… Thomas,” Andre hisses, his hips rocking forward into the strokes. He lets his eyes slip closed and indulges in the sensations for a moment. “I think maybe you have more experience at this than you let on.”

Abe swallows and shakes his head. “Touching a man… it’s not so different from touching oneself. Believe me, I have far more experience at that than with another.”

Laughing softly, Andre shifts his hands to stroke Abe’s body again, cupping him and teasing the soft skin behind his balls with one thick finger. “Your wife does not perform her duties for you?”

“No wife,” Abe says, though speech is increasingly difficult. “Consider myself married to the law.”

“An admirable quality,” Andre murmurs. He stretches out next to Abe and rolls the other man toward him, giving him a moment’s respite. He continues to caress and tease his skin, running a hand over his waist and his ass. 

“I hope your wife knows what a lucky woman she is,” Abe says. “To have such a talented lover.” 

“Mm, she is lucky, though we haven’t seen each other in a long time,” Andre says. “She remains in London. I find my relief as you do, taking what I can get. It often makes performing my duties easier. You’d be surprised what a man will share with a woman he is screwing. And what those women then share with me.” 

“Quite a pleasurable way of gathering intelligence, I should think,” Abe says, leaning closer to get Andre’s lips once more.

“Quite pleasurable,” Andre says, squeezing one of Abe’s cheeks. “Time for me to show you exactly how pleasurable. On your front, up on your knees.” 

“Yes, Major,” Abe replies, rolling obediently to his knees. 

Andre runs his hand down Abe’s back and over his flank. He slips his fingers into his mouth and wets them thoroughly. He spreads Abe’s legs and introduces one spit-slick finger slowly, opening him systematically in an effort not to hurt him. 

Abe’s hands clench in the bed clothes at the unnatural intrusion, but as the discomfort spreads through him and evens out, it turns into something more pleasurable. Soon Andre has two fingers buried inside him as Abe’s body relaxes and opens to him. “John!” Abe cries out softly, mindful of making too much noise. 

“Good, good,” Andre murmurs, encouragingly. He adds more spit and a third finger, watching carefully for signs of pain. Abe’s writhing and squirming, however, seems to be entirely out of a desire for more pleasure. Satisfied that he’s not about to hurt Abe unduly, he again spits in his hand and slicks up his cock as much as he can. He pushes the tip against Abe’s slick entrance and thrusts forward in one strong, steady push.

Abe clenches his jaw against the discomfort, his eyes watering with pain. But after a few moments and several deep breaths, the sensation subsides into something less acute. He turns his head and glances back at Andre, seeing him slack-jawed. “Feels good, does it, Major?” 

“Exceedingly good,” Andre groans. He rocks his hips against Abe until he can move more freely. He places his hand in the center of Abe’s back as he ruts into him. 

Pushing back, Abe rocks in time with Andre’s thrusts. He groans when the Major’s hand wraps around him once more, stroking him as well. “John… I--I’m afraid I’m not going to last,” he pants.

“Find your relief, then, Thomas,” Andre pants. “With glee.”

Abe laughs softly but it turns into a long moan as he finds his release. 

“Yes, by God,” Andre moans as Abe clenches around him. He increases the pace of his thrusts, driving himself toward his own release. His hands clench around Abe’s hips as he thrusts one final time and lets go. “Thomas. You are spectacular,” he sighs, withdrawing as gently as he can and helping Abe sink to the mattress. 

“I consider that a high compliment, Major,” Abe says, sighing. “You are truly a talented man. I am afraid that I have soiled your fine sheets, however.” 

Andre rolls onto his back and stretches out. “It’s to be expected. Abigail will not be shocked. And if she is, well, a good housemaid knows to be discreet with her master’s secrets.” 

Abraham nods. “Discretion is a highly prized quality. I assure you, John, you can count on mine.” 

“I had no doubt of it, Thomas,” Andre says. “Since to be indiscreet with my secrets would result in a hanging for your own,” he comments. “But those are thoughts and worries for another time.” He rolls onto his side toward Abraham and lays a gentle hand on his back. “You may take your ease here if you wish.”

“Just be out before daylight?” Abe says, lifting his eyebrows. He waves his hand at Andre’s half-offended look. “Don’t worry, Major. I understand the way of the world. I shall rest here until I am recovered and then I shall make my escape.”

Andre makes a soft, sleepy noise and nods his agreement. He’s soundly asleep within moments.

Abraham fights the torpor in his own body with an effort. He waits for several minutes to be sure that Andre is out and then gently slips from under his body. There’s a moment when Andre stirs and Abe waits to see if he’ll wake. He breathes a sigh of relief when the Major resettles and remains asleep. Locating his breeches, he slips them on and then carefully pulls up the decoration at the foot of the bed, where Abigail had told Anna that the Major hid a black book of secrets. 

The book is exactly where Abigail had said it would be, but for a moment Abraham’s heart sinks when he sees that the contents are in code. He locates a scrap of paper and a quill in the portable secretary on Andre’s dresser, copying down what he can. Returning the book, Abe borrows one of Andre’s shirts, knowing that he’d never be able to get back into the dress Anna lent him on his own. He collects Anna’s clothes and accoutrements and slips from the bedroom. 

….

The sun is well up and pouring in the windows of Andre’s bedroom when he finally stirs. He’s alone, as he expected to be, but he spots a piece of paper propped up on the mantle. Smirking, he gets out of bed without bothering with his clothes and plucks the note from its place.

_Major Andre, John--_

_Thank you for a splendid evening. You are an incomparable host and I enjoyed myself thoroughly. I do hope you won’t mind that I have absconded with one of your shirts. I have business outside of the city and expect I shall be away for close to a month. When I return, I hope you will allow me to call on you again, if only to return what I have borrowed. You may pass letters to me via the Strong Tavern in Setauket, a town in Long Island loyal to The Crown. I eagerly anticipate word from you._

_Your servant,_

_Thomas Baxter_

Andre smirks as he fingers the letter, reading it over several times. Setauket again. He casts his eyes around the room and then immediately moves to the foot of his bed. The book is still in its place and doesn’t appear to have been disturbed. 

He dresses quickly, wrapping his dressing gown around him and then calling for Abigail. 

Abigail comes upstairs, carrying the Major’s tea on a tray. “Good morning, Major. I hadn’t expected to see you out of bed before noon,” she says.

“I am fortunate to be in possession of a strong constitution,” he says, sitting in his chair as Abigail places the tray in front of him. “I want to thank you for your assistance last night, in helping to procure some of the entertainment.” Abigail stops collecting Andre’s clothes and turns to him, frowning. “Come now, you must have helped Mr. Baker get in.”

“You mean Mr. Baxter, sir?” 

Smirking, Andre levels a look at her and Abigail lowers her gaze, chagrinned. “His family hails from Setauket, do they not?” Andre asks her.

“His brother bought some farm land there, oh, five, six years back now. Cabbages, I think,” Abigail says, resuming her duties. “But the Baxter family resides in Albany, I heard. Or there abouts.”

“I see,” Andre says thoughtfully. He puts this information aside for now and sips his tea. “The bedclothes may be beyond hope,” he comments. “I do apologize for that.”

“Oh, I don’t know, Major. I think I might have some magic I can work on it still,” Abigail says, collecting the soiled sheets. She excuses herself, closing the door behind her. 

Andre reads the note Thomas left for him again. He only believes half of what it says, if that, and almost none of what Abigail has just told him. Still, whatever the true purpose Thomas had for coming to his home, their experience together created an opening either to find a friend or turn a double agent. Time would tell the tale of which Thomas would turn out to be. He pulls a fresh sheet of paper from his secretary and begins a reply.

**Author's Note:**

> I tried to research as much as possible to keep what Anna, Abe, and John Andre were wearing as close to historically accurate as possible. I may have taken a couple liberties with Abe's ability to undress John. If you see anywhere I went egregiously wrong, please do tell. 
> 
> Support for the most commonly used lubricant in male/male sex in the 18th century being nothing but spit comes from here: http://rictornorton.co.uk/eighteen/sex.htm
> 
> Again, if I'm wrong, please let me know what period-correct alternate substances might be since this is my first time writing in a fandom set in this century.


End file.
